


The Bumblebee Myth

by bitter_crimson (Krim)



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bugs & Insects, Crack, Other, Team
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-08
Updated: 2009-01-08
Packaged: 2018-10-17 10:55:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10592541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krim/pseuds/bitter_crimson
Summary: Gender identity crises, sneaking into physics seminars, daring rescue schemes, and the complicated relationship between sex and eating. Oh, plus they're all insects (and one arachnid).





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yesj](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=yesj).



From the time Rodney was a young nymph mantid, all he ever wanted was to be a great musician.

===

"Don't be ridiculous, Meredith," said one of his several dozen siblings, Jeannie. They were nestled together beneath blades of grass, sharing a small aphid for supper.

"Hey!" yelled Rodney, his mouth full of aphid, "I told you not to call me Meredith. It's Rodney."

"Mother named us _all_ when we hatched out of the egg mass, remember? She called you Meredith, so that's what I'm going to call you."

"She thought I was a _female_!" said Rodney. "But I'm not. I'm male."

Jeannie shifted her forelimbs and tilted her head in his direction. "Can you really be sure? It's not like we've developed functional genitalia yet."

"Whatever," said Rodney. "I'm sure." He hunched his torso unhappily until he realized his antennae were nearly hitting the ground, then straightened back up. "And anyway, why is it ridiculous for me to want to be a musician? Do you think I can't _do_ it?"

"No Meredith, I don't." Jeannie nudged one of his forelimbs with her own. "We're mantises. We aren't designed to be great musicians. You're only going to get your hopes crushed."

Rodney could feel his body vibrating with nervous energy. "You're wrong! I can be anything I want to be! I don't care what you or any of the other mantises think." Without realizing what he was doing, Rodney rose up on his hind limbs, spreading his forelegs wide, and he saw Jeannie tense and jump back a little in shock, and then–

Then, somehow, Rodney felt air blowing out through the small openings on his abdomen, and heard a kind of hissing sound. He froze, and Jeannie stood still as well. For a moment, none of them seemed to move, not Rodney, or Jeannie, or the surrounding blades of grass. (And certainly, not the dead aphid.)

"Did you just–" began Jeannie.

"I think I..." Rodney stared down at his torso in wonder.

"You did it!" yelled Jeannie, hurling herself toward Rodney and wrapping her forelimbs around him. He flailed his limbs around wildly, trying to keep his balance, but it was no good; they toppled backward onto the soft soil.

"You did it," said Jeannie again, gazing down at him with pride in her eyes. "Maybe you really _can_ become a musician."

Rodney scoffed. "Oh please. As if there were ever any doubt."

===

Of course, Rodney's sense of pride and optimism lasted about as long as the trip to the nearest meadow in search of an adequate music instructor.

"Don't be ridiculous," said the cricket with complete disdain. "You call that music? You're completely lacking in the physical structure necessary to become a great musician. It doesn't matter how much you practice, how much technical sufficiency you obtain. You will never be able to do more than hiss like that. Real music, proper music, requires finesse, skill, and above all, the ability to chirp by rubbing your forewings like so." And here, the cricket began to rub its wings together to produce a demonstration of one of its various cricket songs. Rodney could not deny its beauty, and realized he would never be able to create music like that.

So, in the end, Rodney didn't feel that bad about giving up his dreams of becoming a musician. It helped that the cricket was especially filling, which would hopefully give him the energy he needed for the long journey ahead. Rodney needed to find a new purpose for his life.

===

A few days' journey from the meadow, Rodney realized he had yet another molt coming on.

"Oh great," he moaned to himself. "At my most vulnerable and I'm in the middle of nowhere! I hardly know this area at all. And it's not like Jeannie or any of the others are around to look out for me. Perfect, just perfect. Great timing, you stupid hemimetabolic metamorphic life cycle."

But thankfully, he was able to locate a small crevasse in the underside of some rocks. It looks like it'd been used by other insects in the past, but there was no one there now, so Rodney took a chance. He ducked in and began to molt, peeling off his old exoskeleton bit by bit, keeping a nervous eye on the sliver of light coming in from the outside.

He'd almost finished the molting process when suddenly it grew darker. Rodney froze; he'd become turned around in the middle of shedding his old body covering, and had his back to the crevasse's opening. Slowly, Rodney twisted his head to peer back around.

"Hey," said four intently staring eyes, surrounded by a very hairy torso, supporting several very large, very hairy legs (that Rodney could see), as well as, at the front, two very, very large fangs dripping with venom.

Rodney screamed and passed out.

===

When Rodney came to, the first thing he became aware of was that he was in the middle of molting. The second thing he realized was that he was in some completely unfamiliar crevasse in a rock, rather than the usual locations Jeannie and he and the other young mantids from home chose to complete their molts. The next thing he noticed was that the largest, hairiest, most deadly spider Rodney had ever seen was staring in at him through the opening to the crevasse in the rock.

"Finally," the spider said. "I thought maybe you had died."

"Oh my god," said Rodney, "Look, please, I'll do anything, just please don't eat me. I can, I can, well, I don't really know what I can do for you, but please, don't eat me. I swear, I'm not in very good shape, I probably wouldn't taste very good at all. I mean, I'm always eating all this junk food. I eat aphids _constantly_ , all the time. My mother keeps yelling at me and telling me to be more nutritious, saying that I'll ruin my figure– You know, I think she still thinks I'm a female! Just because I haven't developed any genitalia, I mean, it's _obvious_ I'm a male, isn't it? I'm sure _you_ can tell– Oh shit, that isn't why you want to eat me, is it? You've got a craving for a male nymph mantis, don't you. Because look, I can tell you, you probably wouldn't want to eat _any_ of us! I swear to you, we're disgusting, and really not worth your time, and hey, don't think I'm not going to put up a fight, here, I'll, I'll bite you! I may not look like much but I've got, um, super-venom! That's right, so if you even think about trying to reach one of your big hairy legs down in here to pull me out, I'll–"

"You're funny," said the spider. "Kinda annoying, but funny."

"Um," said Rodney, feeling the racing rhythm of his heart begin to slow a bit. "Does that... Does that mean you aren't going to eat me?"

"Nahhh," said the spider. "You're too small and scrawny. I mostly eat lizards. Besides, I just had a really nice field mouse."

Then the spider opened his mouth very wide, and Rodney was about to pass out, wondering if the spider were going to regurgitate this field mouse to make room for eating Rodney, instead. But suddenly, he realized the wide jaws were somehow the spider's way of expressing friendliness. It was... What was that word? Oh yeah, a _smile_.

"I'm Ronon," said the spider. "You're not from around here, huh?"

"Um, no," said Rodney. He realized he was still mid-molt, and cautiously began to peel the rest of his old exoskeleton off, moving toward the crevasse's opening as he did so. The enormous spider conveniently moved over to one side to allow Rodney passage, and Rodney paused. "Er, you're really not just trying to eat me, right?"

Ronon's four small eyes glittered at him, and the spider moved his fuzzy mouth appendages from side to side in what seemed to be amusement. "No," he said.

Rodney nodded shakily, took a deep breath, and pushing his discarded exoskeleton into the rock behind him, took the last few steps to pull himself out of the crevasse into the open air.

Rodney felt his body freezing up immediately once he saw the full size of his new arachnid acquaintance. Ronon had seemed large from inside the crevasse, but Rodney had only been able to make out a small portion of his body through the crack. Standing before him, Rodney thought that Ronon was the largest arthropod he had ever seen. And yes, maybe Ronon had said he wasn't going to eat him, but Rodney was suddenly terrifyingly sure he'd been lying. He was so enormous, and every inch of his body seemed to be vibrating with physical strength, and Rodney began to sway and think of Jeannie and his mother and his failed attempts to find his calling in life...

"So," said Ronon. "What are you, anyway? I've never seen an insect like you before."

Rodney slowly stilled his swaying, turned his head up toward the enormous spider and tried to remember how to breathe. "I... I'm a mantis. Well, a nymph mantis, anyway. We, we taste really bad, you know."

"I told you I wasn't going to eat you," said Ronon, sounding a little annoyed. "So what are you doing all the way out here? I've never heard of a _mantis_ before."

And so Rodney, cautiously, still half-convinced Ronon was going to eat him, began to explain his quest to find his purpose in life, his past desire to become a musician, the cricket's crushing words (he left out the part about his subsequent meal, not wanting to bring up feeding right now), and his current lack of direction. Ronon, to his surprise, listened pretty attentively, barely saying a word at all until Rodney had finished. Only then did Ronon ask,

"So why don't you do something that uses those wings of yours?"

Rodney said, "What? I don't have..." Stopped, because he could feel something different on his back, and barely daring to move, he began to flex his muscles, this way, that, and he felt appendages he'd never had before rise up, felt the wind fluttering between them as they vibrated above his back and he lifted slightly off the ground.

"I've got wings..." said Rodney, soft voice barely audible, filled with wonder.

"What, did you just get those, or something?" asked Ronon.

Abruptly, Rodney had another thought. "Hey!" he shouted, looking down with joy. "Ha! Take that, mom! I am definitely a male."

===

===

From the time John was a young phasmid, all he ever wanted was to be able to fly.

===

"Don't worry, I'm sure we'll be able to fly someday!" said Mitch, one of John's buddies, a fellow phasmid.

"Yeah," said Dex, also a stick insect, standing to the side of Mitch and munching on some bramble. "I mean, we've only been alive about a month. Who knows, anything could happen!"

John sighed and shifted his weight. It was dusk, and the three of them were feeding together. He was thankful for his pals, but sometimes he thought they just didn't understand. If they hadn't developed wings by now, what was the chance it was _ever_ going to happen? For that matter, John had seen plenty of much older stick phasmids in his month of life, and none of them had had wings of any kind, or hinted about any ability to fly.

Unnoticed by John, Mitch and Dex exchanged a glance. "Look, John, you think too much," said Dex, forcing a cheerful tone into his voice. "Try some of this bramble, it's–"

"It's what?" asked John, raising his head and turning to look for his friend, but then he froze. Dex was nowhere to be seen, and Mitch was sitting frozen, staring upward, stark terror written in his eyes. John felt something cold sweep into his body, and looking at the ground beneath him, despite the fact that it was almost completely dark, he saw a slight shadow pass over his body. John turned around as slowly as he could, raising his head to stare in the direction Mitch was looking...

To spot a beast, enormous, wingspan twice the length of John's body, descending upon them like lightning.

Every instinct in John's mind told him to freeze, to try to blend in with his surroundings, but he knew instantly that it was too late, the beast had spotted them, and already Dex had paid the price. _Dex,_ he thought, and that was all John needed.

He dove to the side right as the beast was upon him, its beak scooping through empty air instead, an irritated cry screeching out of its throat. "Mitch!" yelled John, turning to find his other friend still frozen in place. "It's already seen us. Move. Now!"

And somehow, Mitch managed to hear John; he broke out of his shocked stillness, jerking around to stare wildly at John, then at the air, where they could both see that beast had finished climbing and was circling around, preparing to make another pass at them.

"We have to move!" said John in the most commanding voice he could muster. He looked anxiously around him, barely spotting through the darkness a thick tangle of branches far off in the distance on his left. "Come on, follow me! Try to stay under cover."

They tore through the underbrush. John could hear the evil creature above them, calling, beating its wings, and even through the terror he was feeling, John was suddenly struck with a moment of thinking, _Wings,_ and feeling a horrible burning jealously that such a horrible being should have them, should know the sky and the feeling of flight, of the wind rushing past its body as it dove toward the ground, even now, as it was trying to kill him. John heard Mitch behind him, rushing frantically, trying to stay in the shade of the short plants as they made their way closer and closer to the dense clump of branches and logs that would mean salvation.

Suddenly, a burst of wind; the creature had come down on them again, and John hurled himself to the left, feeling the disturbance against his side as its beak and then feet narrowly brushed past him.

"Almost there, almost there!" John shouted. And they were, maybe a meter now until they reached shelter, and then John felt the ground drop off under his right leg and threw himself to the side without thinking about it, pressing onward, pulling himself beneath the dark shadow of a thick fallen tree trunk and into safety.

 _We're safe,_ he thought, and he called out joyously, "Mitch, buddy, we made it!" as he looked behind himself for his friend.

Instead, John saw the reason the ground had dropped off, that thing he had narrowly avoided: a miniature pond, some cavity in the ground that had filled with water. Mitch had run straight into it.

The sky-monster landed, hopped over to the puddle, and neatly plucked Mitch out of it, making quick work of him, spreading its wings, and flying away into the night sky.

===

For a while, John just wandered.

He stayed close to the ground, tried to keep to the thickest vegetation he could find, looked out for obvious signs of predators and always, always kept an eye out for shadows from above. He gave up being active only at night, ignored his baser instincts and began to travel during the day, as well, so he could cover more ground.

And for a while, he survived that way. Every now and then he'd run into a group of insects, sometimes phasmids like himself, and he'd stop himself before he got too close, before they could notice him.

Eventually, the other insects would go on their way, or John would slink back the way he'd come and find a different path. No one ever noticed him.

===

One bright afternoon, John was traveling as usual when he noticed a sound in the brush to his right. He froze. It could be a group of small insects like himself, or a larger predator that would pay no mind to him, or it could be something of exactly the right size.

And then John heard another noise, and he was sure of it now: the loudness of the crunching vegetation, the stillness of the surrounding air, not even any smaller insects like ants about. This was Danger.

John stood frozen, hoping to blend in with his surroundings, and then: a rush of movement and sound from the brush. He changed his mind, once again going against instincts, and darted forward and to the side right as a thick tongue whipped past him. A lizard, he realized, and he could feel it now, vibrating the ground as it threw itself toward him, almost upon him, and John felt his hopes sink as he realized there was absolutely no way he'd be able to outrun the beast, this time.

Then suddenly, the underbrush was gone; John had burst out of the grass onto a clear, dark stone, and he cursed himself for not being more aware of his surroundings, because in the next second, the lizard would surely take him.

Only, it didn't. Instead, John's world was inverted; he felt himself rising through the air, trapped, surrounded by some kind of dark mesh, and he flailed and tried to regain his purchase, but it was no use. It was over. The lizard hadn't got him, but some other beast, something worst, had made him its prey, and soon it would eat him.

But then John was inverted again, and falling, and he found himself landing on the smoothest surface he had ever felt. His body was vibrating with terror, and he looked down, swaying, to find himself staring through whatever he was standing on. He was suspended high in the air, somehow, floating far above the ground and yet supported by a strange, clear surface. He looked around himself, and saw four walls made of the same strange clear material, and above, some kind of dark grating sealing him in. Wherever he was, he was trapped.

And yet, he was still high above the ground, and when John looked down, he thought that if he concentrated hard enough, he could almost believe he was flying.

===

===

"So where are we?" Rodney asked, clinging with his forearms to the thick hairs on Ronon's abdomen. Ronon had been running most of the afternoon, and they'd long ago learned that they could cover more distance at Ronon's running speed than with Rodney flying by himself.

The mantid and spider had forged a strange friendship. After he'd developed his adult form, Rodney had realized he had no real desire to go back to his family. He wanted to see the world, wanted to find another purpose in life. Ronon (whom Rodney had learned was not simply an enormous ordinary spider after all, but rather, some special variant called a _tarantula_ ), had, for his part, apparently decided that Rodney was really amusing, and too small to bother eating. And when Rodney had informed Ronon of his desire to learn more about flight, and how it worked, Ronon had mentioned a place he once knew where Rodney might be able to learn something. Since then, the two of them had been traveling together in search of this "university."

"Didn't you hear me?" Rodney said, then repeated himself, "Where are we?"

"Heard you," said Ronon, shifting and shaking his eight limbs as he stood in place. "Didn't answer."

"And why not?" demanded Rodney, reminding himself that he must not bite the giant tarantula in irritation, as Ronon could easily take him out in return. (Though Rodney might be able to evade his friend for a while if he took to the sky.)

"Don't know."

Rodney twitched, and was about to give Ronon a diatribe on false hope, and leading innocent young bugs astray, and most of all, having _no_ idea where they were going, when Ronon spoke again, "I think it's in this direction."

And then the tarantula was off and running, and Rodney barely had time to take hold once more with his forearms before being flung off Ronon's back. It was definitely too bumpy back here, and Rodney was sure he'd end up with sores and pulled muscles all over his body. Why, he might never be able to recover from this journey; might never be able to _fly_ again, even, and then what good would it do him? Even if they ever reached this place that supposedly existed, according solely to Ronon, who had a weird sense of humor anyway and possibly was just doing all this as a prolonged sick joke, at the conclusion of which he really would eat Rodney after all, well, what good would it do him if he couldn't fly, to learn about flight? Rodney shifted his rear limbs and tried to pull himself forward so he could shout his irritation at Ronon, when abruptly, the tarantula halted.

Rodney, obviously, went flying forward and landed on his head. "What in the world do you do _that_ for?" he yelled. "I may never recover! Do you have any idea how sore I already was from all your jostling and swerving? You could have been a little more considerate for the well-being of your passenger, you know."

Ronon opened his mouth extremely wide and his fangs glistened, and Rodney felt his heart stop, thinking, _Oh shit, he's actually going to eat me this time._

"Stop whining, Rodney," said Ronon. "We're here."

Rodney turned around, slowly, and there was nothing but enormous white cliffs as far as his compound eyes could see.

===

Ronon soon informed Rodney that the "cliffs" were actually buildings, and the university was composed of many of these buildings, in which large mammals of some kind came together to learn about absolutely everything under the sun. Including the dynamics of flight.

"How do you know all this, anyway?" Rodney asked suspiciously.

Ronon shrugged two of his front legs upward. "Dunno. Just do."

So Rodney began to sneak into buildings. It was fairly difficult: there were doors to contend with, first of all, and also, these mammals didn't seem to take kindly to arthropods of any kind, even the relatively harmless ones like Rodney. He usually tried to find a hiding spot on the ground outside a doorway. Then, he'd wait for a mammal to open to the door and enter the building, flying in low to the ground where it wouldn't notice him. There'd be several such doors to contend with inside the buildings as well, but eventually, Rodney became pretty experienced at getting into the important, inner rooms.

These were the places that really mattered. Equations, variables, pure beauty: Rodney had worried that none of it would mean anything to him, that he'd traveled all this way for nothing, but he found to his continuing amazement that he understood all of this as naturally as killing an aphid, as flying, as blowing air through his abdomen, as gripping Ronon tightly with his forelimbs.

Physics. It was the language of the universe, spread out before him.

===

"And oh, it's so much more than just flying," Rodney said to Ronon one afternoon. The two of them were hiding in a bush in the middle of campus, Ronon feeding on some lizard he'd killed and Rodney partaking of a small cricket, though Rodney was eating much more slowly, since he couldn't seem to stop talking. "I mean, aerodynamics is great and all, but there's so much _more_... Subatomic particles, the Big Bang, cosmology, M-theory, dark matter, Ronon, it's the _meaning of everything_ , the whole _universe_."

Ronon lifted his head from the lizard he'd been finishing spraying with digestive juices and beginning to suck up. "Oh yeah? Sounds interesting."

Rodney blew some air from his abdomen in irritation. "Well, fine, maybe it's not interesting to _you_ , but believe me, this stuff is amazing. And yeah, okay, some of it is _completely_ wrong, which just irritates the hell out of me, because it's not like I have any way of telling the mammals which of their theories are utterly false, so instead I'm forced to sit back and watch them base even more work on assumptions that are just wrong, wrong, so wrong, but still, just to be here, to get to learn these things." He exhaled softly. "It's more than I could have ever asked."

Ronon turned his head and looked at Rodney. "You've picked everything up pretty fast, huh?"

"Well, yes." Rodney raised his head haughtily, not noticing he had a mouth full of cricket. "I am a genius, after all."

===

After enough wheedling and pressure ("Ronon, please, I'm going to go _crazy_ if I have to listen to these horribly incorrect seminars one instant longer"), Rodney finally managed to talk Ronon into helping him infiltrate a computer lab. They found one in one of the lesser-used buildings, out of the way, rarely frequented. Usually, there was no one in there at all, and the gap at the bottom of the door was large enough that Ronon and Rodney could squeeze through without waiting for someone to open it. It was ideal. Occasionally a couple of students dropped by, but there was a large bookshelf in one corner of the room, which Rodney and Ronon found they could easily make it to in time to hide behind. Rodney had a hard time with his keyboard accuracy at first, but with practice he got better, launching himself into the air and then jumping down hard on each key, one at a time, to type his messages. He had a harder time with the mouse, and so on the occasions when he couldn't just use the tab key (which he usually relied on in web browsers), he'd call Ronon over for help on manipulating the instrument to the part of the screen Rodney required.

Most of the time, though, Ronon kept a look-out, poised near the computer lab door and listening for footsteps in the hallway, in order to give warning, in case they needed to hide.

They'd worked out a similar system previously for attending the library. Rodney found he couldn't get all the information he needed from lectures and seminars alone, and so he and Ronon cautiously learned to infiltrate the physics stacks, Rodney flying up to point out the books and journals he needed, and Ronon climbing the shelves to pry them loose with his legs. Sometimes, with the heavier books, Ronon had to crawl inside the shelves and push the books out, but he was almost unnaturally strong, and they almost always managed to get the books out one way or another. Then Rodney would read voraciously, Ronon turning the pages for him and keeping his watchful eyes and vibration-sensing legs focused on their surroundings, in case they needed to hide. They made a pretty good team. (It also helped that the graduate library was notoriously infested with mice, which kept Ronon satisfied on these little outings.)

===

One day, they were heading toward their usual computer lab, but as they neared the door Ronon suddenly froze and said, "Wait."

"What?" asked Rodney. "Do you hear a mouse, or something? Look, there's a paper that was supposed to be published today that I really want to read, so how about I go on ahead, and you can–"

"Move!" shouted Ronon, "Rodney, on my back, now!" And Rodney started, then noticed one of the large mammals standing before them in the hallway, staring directly at Ronon. It shrieked, the sound echoing through the halls, and Rodney thought, _Oh, shit,_ and launched himself onto Ronon's abdomen, gripping the tarantula's hairs tight.

The human threw a book at Ronon, but they were already off and running, taking off down the hall. Unfortunately, the scream seemed to have alerted more of the mammals, who were peeking out their doors as Rodney and Ronon sped down the hallway, and more shouts and thrown implements followed in their wake.

Then they turned a corner, and Rodney saw a darkened doorway with a large enough gap beneath it, and yelled, "In there, in there!" and Ronon turned sharply, squeezing himself flat to fit through the gap as Rodney detached from Ronon's back and spread his wings, flying through into the darkness at top speed.

===

===

John had never known the proper name for himself. Sure, he'd thought of himself as a phasmid, but it wasn't the actual _word_ phasmid, of course, but rather the concept of it. In the wild, it was all "us" versus "them," and broad conceptual categories of what made an insect, a vertebrate, a predator. But now, he knew: _Carausius morosus_ , aka the "common stick insect," and more specifically, "rare wild gynandromorph type." John had been able to figure out the stick insect part, though he'd been a bit put-off by the "common"; he'd figured out by glancing at the dozens of other tanks in the small room he was now kept in that the long italicized words were some kind of fancy organizational scheme. He'd been a bit stuck on the last, "gynandromorph," until one day he wondered out loud and the creature in the cage next to him answered.

"It means we are both male and female," the mystery beast said. John couldn't see into the enclosures to either side of him, since only the fronts were translucent. He could observe what was in front of him, though, and since what he saw was endless shelves full of small enclosures like his, each containing a single insect, he came to suspect that all the cages contained various other insects like him. So, probably, his neighbor was an insect of some kind, though who could say what kind it was.

John debated whether or not to reply. He'd only been in this place a couple of weeks, and while a few of the other insects could sometimes be heard speaking to each other, most of them seemed to spend their time lying dormant and mute, and John did the same. It had been a long journey from his capture in the strange clear box to this place, mostly kept in the dark during what he assumed was transit, and since reaching his destination, John had begun to lose hope of ever seeing the sun again. He was given food once a day, but through a tiny opening at the lid of his enclosure; he couldn't fit his entire body through it even if he tried. He had a constant supply of water, but that came through a hole in the side of his prison automatically. An automatic mister in the ceiling of his unit kept it sufficiently moist. There was no way out to be seen, and the lid was never opened.

Dreams of flying had long ago been forgotten. All John wanted now was to get out, someday, and see that open sky once more, but it seemed impossible. Why bother talking to neighbors, forging connections, if there was no hope for a future anyway?

But on impulse: _To hell with it,_ John thought. "...what do you mean?" he answered.

John heard the insect beside him let out a loud breath, and realized it had been waiting a long time for his reply. "Hello," it said. Its voice had a lyrical quality to it, with an odd cadence. "I have not been spoken to in some time. It is good to hear the voice of another being. None of my other neighbors have been given to conversing."

"Well," said John, feeling a little uncomfortable at the other creature's obvious relief. "I guess we've got nothing better to do, right?"

"I am Teyla," said the voice. "What is your name?"

"John. What did you mean, we are both male and female?"

"That is the purpose of this place," Teyla said. "We are prisoners in a human laboratory. These researchers are studying gynandromorph insects of many species, mainly insects. Each of these containers houses a specimen. You have been taken here because you are both male and female."

John shifted uncomfortably in his cell. "What do you mean, 'male' and 'female'?"

Teyla did not respond right away. Then, when John was about to repeat his question, Teyla said, "You are not familiar with these concepts? Is it not necessary for procreation in your species, that there be one sex that supplies the eggs, and another which fertilizes them?"

Feeling suddenly very awkward, John said, "No. At least, not that I was ever aware. I thought we were all just the same."

"You didn't have a mother and a father?" asked Teyla gently. "I know many species are abandoned by their parents before birth, but perhaps you simply did not know them."

"I don't know," said John, a coldness spreading in his body. "I don't know."

===

Teyla never brought up John's parentage again, seeming to sense that it was a tender subject. They did, however, have more conversations about sex. Teyla explained the concepts of male and female to John, and told him that despite being classified as a gynandromorph herself, she had decided to think of herself as female. John decided to choose a male identity for himself, though he was still uncomfortable with the idea of sex categories in general, and a little dubious that they truly existed.

"How else would your species reproduce?" Teyla asked one dark evening.

"I don't know," John said. "They just would. I always got the idea that we just reproduced by ourselves."

Teyla didn't answer right away, which John had learned meant she was considering what he said. "I suppose this is possible," she finally conceded. "Although I am uncertain that would be a successful long-term genetic adaptation for the survival of your species."

John had learned a hell of a lot about genetics from Teyla over the past couple of weeks. She'd been caged in here a great while longer than him, she explained, and had dedicated her time to observing the scientists who worked in here, gazing out at their papers and computers and trying to glean information from their work. In the time before he'd started talking to Teyla, John had never really been interested in anything that went on outside his cage, once he figured out none of it was going to help him escape. But Teyla seemed very into this stuff, so John tried to learn more about it in order to please her.

"I dunno," said John, shifting his weight from foot to foot. "Maybe there are other mechanisms for genetic diversity. Or maybe the lack of need for reproduction between two partners outweighs that cost."

"Perhaps," conceded Teyla agreeably.

And then, madness erupted in the endlessly calm laboratory.

===

===

"Did anyone see us? Have we been followed? Oh shit, oh shit, we're both going to die, they're going to find us and step on you and throw a book on me. I'm going to be killed by the very knowledge I seek to acquire!"

"Rodney, calm down," said Ronon. "Stop shouting and get down here. We need to hide."

"What good is hiding going to do?" shrieked Rodney. "They're still going to find us. They'll kill me! They'll kill us both! All my knowledge, gone! And worst of all, I'll never be able to correct that idiot at MIT. Oh, what am I going to..." Then Rodney paused, looked around, and noticed their surroundings. "Hey Ronon, where the hell ...are we?"

Ronon had run been crouching on the ground with his eyes on Rodney, and his forelimbs up in a threatening position, but at the question, he lowered his legs and turned in the direction Rodney was gazing.

The room was dark, but Rodney could make out rows of shelves, filled with small plastic boxes. Inside the boxes, he could barely make out ...insects. Dozens and dozens of insects, of various types: some he knew, some he didn't, some that looked like nothing he'd ever imagined before. They were all sitting quite still, some staring back at Rodney and Ronon, but most of them seemed to be looking at ...nothing.

"Ronon?" Rodney asked, in a small voice. "What kind of place is this?"

"We need to get out of here," Ronon said in a very strange tone of voice.

Rodney looked down at his friend sharply; he'd never heard Ronon sound like that before, and when he looked at the tarantula, he saw that he was standing very still, not moving at all. Ronon never stood like that. He was always in some kind of motion: vibrating, stretching, clicking his fangs together. He had never looked so utterly still.

"Ronon?" Rodney said again. He lowered his altitude, moving closer to his friend, but suddenly not sure if he should move too close.

Ronon continued standing still for a few minutes more, and when Rodney was just about to get really worried, Ronon spoke. "You asked me once how I knew about universities. Schools. All that stuff."

"Yes," Rodney said uncertainly.

Ronon clicked his fangs once, twice. "This is how."

At first Rodney was confused, and was about to ask Ronon to clarify, and then, suddenly, it dawned on him. The rows and rows of tiny plastic cages in this small university building. A vibrant image came to him of Ronon, trapped in a cage so small he barely had room to run from one side to the other. Rodney felt ill.

Rodney thought about saying he was sorry, but he knew Ronon, and realized abruptly he'd probably rather not talk about it. So, instead, Rodney nervously vibrated his wings and said, "Hey, I think they're probably done looking for us by now. You wanna try sneaking back out of the building?"

Ronon took a deep breath, his body heaving up and down. "Yeah. That sounds like a plan."

They were heading for the door when Rodney heard a voice behind him cry, "Wait!"

===

===

"Teyla, what in the hell are you doing?" John muttered urgently under his breath. "Didn't you see the size of that tarantula?"

"John," Teyla said calmly, "you may think I have not noticed, but in our conversations together it has not escaped my attention that more than anything, you desire to be free from this place. I also, am not happy being held in captivity here. Do you think we will ever get another chance? A better chance?"

John was loath to admit it, but she was right, and suddenly he couldn't help feeling a hint of hope.

Then the enormous tarantula appeared crawling over the edge of the shelf in front of his cage, and it took all of John's willpower to stop himself from playing dead.

"Who said that?" said a voice from somewhere in front of Teyla's cage; John couldn't see who had spoken, but he assumed it was the small flying insect he'd glimpsed earlier, seemingly conversing with the enormous tarantula.

"It was I," said Teyla. "Please, we have all been imprisoned here against our will. I beg of you, if you are able, release my friend and I from our enclosures."

"We can't free everyone," said the tarantula gruffly, still staring intently into John's cage.

Great, John thought. I had always hoped I'd get free just to be eaten by a huge spider.

"We do not ask you to free every prisoner here," said Teyla smoothly. "Most of them have been here so long they have lost the will to live, anyway. Just, please, my friend's only hope is to see the outside sky once more. I, also, long for my freedom. If it is in your power, we ask that you at least help us to go free."

The big tarantula had finally stopped staring at John and had moved over on the shelf, presumably now looking at Teyla. Then, John heard the sound of the spider climbing up Teyla's enclosure, and walking on top of it.

"Is it possible?" asked the flying insect again.

"Should be able to do it," said the tarantula. "There's clamps. Kinda big."

"But not too big for you, right?"

"Right."

Suddenly, the flying insect appeared in front of John's enclosure, and John hopped back a step. Up close, the insect was like none he'd ever seen. It was brilliant green, with an extremely oddly-shaped head, strangely bent forelimbs, a long slender body and hind limbs that actually... Actually, aside from the rapidly beating wings on either side of its body, looked remarkably similar to John.

"You'd better try to get a grip on something," the flying insect said to both him and, presumably, Teyla. "Ronon's about to try to pry the clamps off the lids of your enclosures. You might go flying or something."

"Oh, that's very helpful," said John. "I'll just grab onto the convenient handle I've got mounted in here, then."

"Hey!" said the flying insect indignantly, but then there was a loud popping noise and John's cage shook mildly, and he looked up. The lid was still there, but one half of it was askew. There was a crack in the lid.

"I..." John stared at the small opening with hunger in his eyes. "I don't know if I can climb up these walls."

Then the tank shook again, and the lid was completely off. John tried not to freak out about the huge tarantula straddling the lid of his enclosure, and then it (right, "Ronon") was gone, working on Teyla's tank. John was about to shout up more loudly about his inability to fly, when the odd flying insect from outside dropped down in front of him.

John started, but held his ground. It might go against all his instincts, but he hadn't really been one for following his instincts since the day he'd lost Dex and Mitch. Besides which, this insect wasn't that much bigger than him. It probably wasn't going to try to eat him. Hopefully.

"Hey, I'm Rodney," said the weird insect. "Um, I'm a mantis. What are you?"

John fought against his normal slouching posture, standing up straight to seem as tall as possible. "Isn't that kind of rude? Just asking random bugs what they are?"

Rodney noticed John's postural change and responded with one of his own, stretching up straight and spreading his front legs out, air hissing loudly out of his abdomen or something. John decided that, okay, maybe Rodney was a lot bigger than he looked. And a little bit more threatening. Although John still definitely wasn't afraid or anything like that.

"Hey, we did just rescue you," said Rodney. "You could show a little gratitude."

"I am grateful," said John, honestly. "I'm John. Um, I'm a stick insect. Walking stick. Whatever."

"Really, you're actually called a walking stick?" Rodney looked John up and down. "They chose a pretty accurate name, huh? What with the, you know." He waved a forelimb in John's general direction.

"No, I don't know," said John, feeling the desire to reach out and kick Rodney well up in him. "Mind elaborating for me?"

"Well, you're totally scrawny," said Rodney. "All lean sinewy body with nothing even remotely threatening." Rodney tilted his head to one side and leaned in toward John. "All in all, you really do look remarkably like a skinny stick."

John was about to either try to bite, kick, or respond to Rodney (he wasn't sure which), when the enormous tarantula (Ronon, right) appeared over the top of his enclosure again. "Rodney," he said, "Stop flirting. I think I heard someone in the hall. We have to go."

"Flirting?" shouted both John and Rodney simultaneously, and John was about to go on, but any retort he may have had died in his head, and if Rodney said anything, John didn't hear him, because Teyla had appeared above the opening of his enclosure, the most stunning shimmering orange and blue and black pattern John had ever seen painted on her two large wings, her small head gazing down at him lovingly, slender antennae protruding to either side.

"Hello, John," she said. "It is good to finally meet you face to face."

"Teyla," John said. "You're a butterfly. You're beautiful."

Teyla ducked her antennae a bit and folded her wings together, and then next to John, Rodney spoke abruptly, "Yes, yes, whatever, I'm sure you two cannot wait to consummate your cross-species love affair, but unfortunately, we've got to get out of here if you're still interested in escaping." He turned to John. "Mind holding your legs in so I can get a better grip on you?"

"Oh," said John, as it finally dawned on him why Rodney had landed in his tank in the first place. "Right." He pulled his legs in and held himself stiff. Rodney hesitated, then reached around John quickly and grasped him with his forelimbs.

"Ahem," said Rodney. "Maybe you'd better hold on to me, too." So John managed to twist himself around and wrap his legs around Rodney, below where his wings were located, and then Rodney launched himself into the air, and John thought, Shit, I'm flying, I'm almost, almost flying.

Behind them John saw Teyla taking flight, her delicate wings spreading wide and reflecting brilliantly the dim light in the room, while Ronon crawled quickly down the shelving unit and onto the floor. In less time than John would have liked, Rodney had landed, setting John gingerly on his back as they touched down on the cold tile floor. John quickly righted himself and thought about how much he wanted to be back in the air again.

"We'll get out of here more quickly and efficiently if we both ride on Ronon's back," Rodney said, and John looked at the enormous tarantula doubtfully. "Trust me," Rodney insisted. "He's a lot faster than either of us on land, and I can't fly for extremely long distances."

"Okay," said John. He began to make for Ronon's back, but Rodney put a forelimb in his path.

"We have to wait until we're under the door, first," Rodney said. "Then we get on."

"Right, said John, and then, "Wait." He twisted around to look behind them, where Teyla was hovering. "What about Teyla?"

"Do not worry, John," said Teyla. "I can fly quite fast enough on my own, if Ronon leads the way."

"The nearest building exit shouldn't be too far from here," said Ronon. "Just stay close to the ground. We'll have to hide near the outside door when we get there and wait for someone to open it for us."

"All right," said Teyla.

"Okay," said Ronon. "As soon as we're under the door, get on my back. Then hold on. Ready... Go!"

All four insects scrambled under the door into the brightly-lit hallway. John had a hard time adjusting to the light, but Ronon was immediately in front of him, obligingly lowering his abdomen to the ground with Rodney already on board, and John scrambled to climb on top of Ronon as well.

"Make sure you get a good grip," said Rodney. "He runs kind of fast."

John had barely gotten a grip at all when Ronon took off down the hallway and proved that "kind of" was a really, really big understatement.

John's forelimbs weren't really designed for gripping the way Rodney's were, and he almost lost his hold on Ronon's hairs a couple of times, when Rodney shifted and tried to throw some of his lower body weight over John to help keep him in place. Out of the corner of his vision, John saw Teyla flitting behind them, and as they rounded a few more corners, John saw a door with an extremely large window, with bright light shining in through it.

Ronon stopped off to the side of the door, Teyla setting down behind them.

Freedom, John thought. Sky.

And then the door opened, and they were moving very rapidly, and some human above them yelled, and they were outside.

Free.

===

===

Rodney didn't know exactly how it happened.

He had thought, when he and Ronon rescued Teyla and John, that that'd be the end of it. They'd help the other bugs get out into the open, then go on their merry ways, never to cross paths again.

Only that wasn't exactly how it worked out. As it turned out, neither John nor Teyla had originally come from this continent, most likely. So neither of them were really that prepared for survival by themselves in the wild. That, and Ronon seemed to have developed some kind of weird instant bond with Teyla. Maybe it was that whole, "Oh, we were both imprisoned by those evil beings that simply wanted to keep us there until they'd sucked all the will to live out of us," thing.

Except John had gone through that too, and he didn't seem to have an instant bond with Ronon. Their relationship, so far, was more one of mutual respect. John seemed to continuously keep an eye on Ronon as if expecting the spider to turn and eat him at any instant.

Finally, Rodney got fed up with it. "Oh please, you're way too scrawny to make any kind of meal for Ronon. Hell, even I would definitely be more filling than you, you stick."

John turned and gave Rodney a Look that Rodney had by now identified as a pout. He was actually becoming disturbingly adept at determining John's moods. They were definitely spending way too much time together.

===

John also became obsessed with pestering Rodney into taking him flying. It was a little bit creepy.

"C'mon, Rodneyyyyy," whined John, poking Rodney with several of his stick-like limbs at once. "Let's go flying together. You know you like it when the humans look at us and get confused because they can't figure out if we're mating or you're eating me."

If Rodney had had eye sockets, he would have definitely rolled his eyes at that. "You know, it disturbs me how closely related you seem to think mating is with food consumption. Those two things should never be combined."

John wasn't capable of producing any real kinds of sound effects, and yet Rodney would have still sworn John was trying to purr at him. "Mmhmm, Rodney," he said. "You're not fooling anyone. You love flying with me. Let's go."

And Rodney sputtered, and he protested, but in the end, he always ended up giving in. All this flying was starting to cut in on his physics time. He couldn't let this continue. John was a horrible influence.

"You have to help me think of a way to make him stop!" insisted Rodney.

"Yeah, whatever," said Ronon, munching on some kind of small bird, for Pete's sake.

Teyla fluttered her shimmering wings at him. "You two are very cute together."

Rodney wished like anything that he could scowl at her. "I liked you better when I thought you and John were in love with each other."

===

Rodney had been having to sneak away from John more and more often recently; that crazy walking stick just would not let him go! He always wanted to do something, be it munching on leaves together, or flying together, or Rodney teaching John about the principles of aerodynamics (he'd admit, it was hard to resist that one), or whatever else John had cooked up in that hollow stick head of his.

"Ah, peace at last," Rodney sighed as he set to work typing up an email. Ronon, having recently been bored quite often, had taken up the habit of stealing random humans' electronics for Rodney, who found the iPhone a lot easier to type on than a full-sized computer keyboard. Of course, the humans would inevitably cancel their phone service, but Rodney had figured out how to patch in to the college wireless networks, and had been happily sending out dozens of emails a day since then, without the danger of trips to the computer lab. Unfortunately, the uninterrupted time to work required getting away from John, and the walking stick was uncannily good at tracking him down around campus, particularly given that he couldn't fly.

But Rodney was free now, and was in the middle of typing an irate email to this Czech physicist named Zelenka (shows a lot of promise, but still has some ideas that are just wrong wrong wrong), when suddenly, Rodney was struck by an odd feeling, like nothing he'd ever really felt before.

He looked up, and glanced out from beneath the bush he was hiding under. No John, Ronon, or Teyla anywhere to be seen. Just lots of big mammals plodding around as usual, the general local insects, mostly too small for Rodney to pay any mind to, and...

And then Rodney saw her.

He hadn't seen any of his own kind since making his trek to the cricket in the meadow, since setting off on his subsequent trek with Ronon.

She was beautiful, standing there across the sidewalk, perched on some kind of wildflower and swaying slightly from side to side, staring straight at Rodney.

He took to the air carefully, avoiding the humans as he made his way over to her. Cautiously, he set down on the flower next to hers.

"Um, hi," he said. "I'm Rodney."

"Hello Rodney," she said, "I'm Jennifer." She was still swaying from side to side, and Rodney found himself utterly enchanted.

"Uh, nice to meet you," he said. "So, I, uh, haven't seen you around here before. Are you new to this area?"

"As a matter of fact, I am," she said. "Actually, I traveled here from pretty far away because I wanted to learn more about medicine. This stink beetle I talked to told me if I came here, I could learn."

"You came here to learn? I thought I was the only one!"

"Oh really?" Jennifer swayed toward him, and Rodney swayed back. "What are you studying?" she asked.

"Well, physics in general," Rodney said. "A little bit of engineering here and there. But my main specialty is theoretical astrophysics."

"Wow," she breathed, and Rodney thought he could stare at her forever.

===

This feeling lasted until about the time she tried to mate with him and eat his head.

"What the hell!" Rodney shouted, air hissing out of his abdomen in extreme irritation as he paced back and forth beneath their group's usual home bush. "What the hell! She tried to eat my head. My head! I need that for thinking! How am I supposed to do astrophysics without my head?"

"Use your enormous ego?" John suggested in a sweet tone.

"Teyla told me that male mantises actually speed up their reproductive thrusts once their heads are eaten, or something," said Ronon helpfully. "It might be a successful evolutionary adaptation."

"What," said Rodney, "what! You knew female mantises sometimes ate the heads of their mates and you didn't think it was important to tell me?"

Ronon shrugged. "I didn't know you and Jennifer knew each other."

Rodney stared. "Wait, you two knew each other? When did this happen?"

Ronon turned away and began rubbing at one of his legs with another leg. "Dunno. Couple of days ago. She's new in town. I said hello. We talked."

"Well that's just great!" Rodney said, "Maybe you two should mate. She can eat your head instead."

Ronon stretched his fangs wide apart. "I wouldn't mind if she tried."

"Ugh," said Rodney. "Whatever, she was all wrong for me anyway. Medicine is barely removed from voodoo. If only there were another bug around here interested in astrophysics."

"You got another reply from Zelenka," said John, poking at a Blackberry Ronon had recently acquired for them. "He says you're totally wrong about M-theory."

"What!" exclaimed Rodney, forgetting about Jennifer and running over to stare at the Blackberry screen. "Did you tell him he was a complete idiot?"

"Yeah," said John. "I explained the math and everything. He's still arguing about it."

"Please, give me that," said Rodney, pushing John aside. As he was typing, he glanced sideways at John, sitting there and staring at him with an odd look in his eyes. "What?" he asked. "Do you want to go flying when I'm done typing this?"

"Sure," said John, "I'd like that."

===

===

As it turned out, John was a complete idiot.

The whole time he'd been in captivity, he'd dreamed about gaining his freedom, setting off on his own again. Just like old times, him on his own, a solitary phasmid, neither needing nor desiring the company of anyone. Except, maybe, he finally amended his plan, Teyla. He'd miss Teyla, if he were on his own.

Only, John never really believed he was actually going to break free. So when he did, he was mostly at a loss, and somehow, he and Teyla ended up living with Ronon and Rodney under a bush. Ronon, whom John had initially thought the most dangerous-looking arthropod he'd ever seen, and who had turned out to be, in some ways, one of the kindest and most thoughtful creatures in John's acquaintance (as long as you weren't one of the creatures on his prey list). Then there was Rodney. At first John thought Rodney was the most infuriating insect he had ever met. Then, John amended that to include infuriating, exasperating, and annoying. Then John learned how to get Rodney to take him along for flights on a regular basis, and the list grew to include astounding and breathtaking. Then Rodney started to teach John about math and physics, and John decided Rodney was really kind of amazing. Only, Rodney never seemed to notice that John thought any of these things about him, or if he did, he gave no sign.

"You should just tell him," Teyla kept telling him.

But what if he's not interested? thought John.

He said nothing.

Then Rodney had his close call with mating and beheading, and John felt a new kind of urgency. He didn't like to think about it, but they were only insects. Their life spans were maybe about a year, and that was it. Plus, there were so many things that could potentially take one of them out before that time. Why keep taking chances and putting things off?

"Okay," John said one morning. "I think I'm going to tell him."

Teyla fluttered her wings happily. "Oh John, I am so proud of you. I am sure you will both be very happy together."

John wasn't as sure, but he was trying to be optimistic. "Oh, hey," he said, remembering Ronon and Rodney's conversation about Jennifer. "Whatever happened between you and Ronon? I thought you two were an item."

"No," said Teyla distractedly. "We were never an interested in each other in that manner. We are merely friends."

"Ah," said John awkwardly. Teyla seemed to have something else on her mind, but now didn't seem the time to ask. And besides, John had other things on his mind, as well.

Teyla shook out her antennae as if to clear her mind, and turned to John. "Tell him," she said. "You may never get another chance at happiness."

And there was definitely something else going on there, but Teyla was right; John resolved to bring it up later. Now, he had to go find Rodney.

===

John located Rodney outside the chemistry building: one of his usual spots, that Rodney thought he didn't know about. Rodney was furiously punching out an email to someone. John moved in stealthily and peered over Rodney's shoulder. Ahhh, Kavanagh. Rodney would be in an excellent mood, then.

"Uh, Rodney?"

"What the fuck!" Rodney launched himself into the air, smacked his head on a branch above him, then crashed to the ground beside John. John stared with fond amusement as Rodney pulled himself up and glared at John. "What was that! You scared the shit out of me sneaking up on me like that! And how in the hell did you find me?"

"Hey to you too, Rodney," said John. "You wanna go flying?"

"No I do not want to go flying with you! You just tried to frighten me to death with your creepy sneaky stealth ways! Also, you're apparently stalking me or something like that, since you always know where I am at every instant of every day, and I'm not really sure how I feel about that, except that you should... Why are you looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?"

"Only your extremely active jaws," said John cheerfully. "C'mon. Let's go flying." He continued staring at Rodney intensely, letting everything show on his face, he almost imagined Rodney's green hue flushing a little red, even though that surely wasn't possible.

"Um, sure," said Rodney. He approached John slowly, and John held himself very still as Rodney carefully wrapped his forelimbs around John. John in turn plastered himself to Rodney, and felt the mantis shiver a little between his legs.

"All right?" asked John huskily.

"Yeah," said Rodney, taking a few deep breaths. "All right."

Rodney launched them into the air, and it was like every other time they'd gone flying together, except that it was completely different. John didn't try to hide anything at all, and he let his body shift against Rodney's as they flew, making them falter and drop in the air a few times, although every time Rodney regained control and pulled them back into the air.

After the third time, Rodney glared down at John. "You're doing that on purpose," he accused, though there wasn't any real heat in it.

"Maybe," John said. "Did you ever figure out if we're mating or you're eating me?"

"Um," said Rodney. "Well, apparently, in my species, the two are often closely intertwined."

"Like us right now, huh?" John tightened his legs and pressed himself even closer to Rodney.

"Yes, uh," said Rodney, "kind of like that, yes. But... John, I need to land."

"Okay," said John.

They landed under a mulberry bush, not one of Rodney's usual spots.

"You know we can never actually mate, right?" Rodney asked anxiously. "I mean, we're not the same species. It's not as if we..."

John felt warm affection flood through him. "Rodney, I'm not an idiot. It's not as if I expected hundreds of eggs, or anything like that."

"Um, good," said Rodney.

"But," John moved closer to him, "it's not like there isn't anything we can do together, either." He stuck a leg out and drew it slowly across the back of one of Rodney's folded wings, and listened to Rodney's breath stutter.

"Er, yes," said Rodney. "Okay, you might have a point there."

===

From then on, that mulberry bush was always one of John and Rodney's regular spots.

===

===

In the end, they all got more or less happy endings. Ronon and Jennifer began an odd kind of courtship, in which she'd try to eat his head every now and then, and he'd amusedly bat her away with one hairy enormous leg.

Rodney and Jennifer started getting along pretty well once he was convinced she wouldn't try to eat his head. They even got to talking about where they'd both come from, and Rodney discovered that Jennifer had run into Jeannie once or twice.

"We should take a trip one of these days, look her up," John insisted.

"Yeah, yeah, maybe," Rodney said, effectively distracting John from the matter with a very keen trick he'd learned with his abdominal spiracles.

For a while, Teyla had been somewhat aloof and distracted, until John finally confronted her about it and they learned that back in the lab they'd been kept in was another butterfly, the same as Teyla's species. Teyla thought she had known him before they'd both been captured.

And so, another daring rescue mission was launched. The human scientists were completely flummoxed when they came into the lab one morning and half their specimens were missing from their enclosures, with those remaining only seemingly remaining out of free will or apathy, since every single enclosure had been opened. It was a complete mystery. They'd found some especially odd tarantula hair all over the lab that couldn't be explained, as absolutely none of their specimens had been tarantulas, and this species wasn't indigenous to the area.

Teyla and Kanaan were almost disgustingly happy with each other, flapping around the wildflowers together all the time.

Rodney kept up with his work. He and that Czech physicist Zelenka had in particular developed a very close working relationship. Zelenka kept emailing Rodney recently demanding to meet him face-to-face. John said it was a good idea and Rodney should go for it. Rodney kept having to shut John up with sex.

One evening, as Rodney was poking out the last of his emails for the day, he heard John approaching him from behind. (He'd gotten a lot better, over time, at noticing when John was trying to sneak up on him.)

"I hear you," Rodney said. "You're not scaring me this time."

"Um, Rodney?" said John. "I think there's something here you need to look at."

"Right," said Rodney. "You're not distracting me that easily, either. I'm right in the middle of an email to Zelenka, and you know how hard you and I worked on that proof. So just wait a second, and then I'll be ready for flying and sex."

"Rodney," said John a bit more urgently, "I think you really need to come over here and look, right now."

Rodney exhaled with exasperation. "Fine," he said, turning around and striding over to John. "What is it? What's so important?" John pointed down at the ground, and Rodney looked down.

"Um, Teyla said it's called parthenogenesis," John said, while Rodney stared dumbly at the eggs. "I guess my species can reproduce asexually. So, um, say, how do you feel about starting a family? Supposedly they incubate for a couple of months, so we still have time to decide if we want to keep them or not." He shifted anxiously from three of his feet to the other three, and Rodney suddenly snapped out of his stupor.

"Well of course we're going to keep them!" Rodney said, glaring. "How can you even ask that? I swear, you're such an empty stick-head sometimes."

"Maybe," John said, "But I'm your stick-head."

"This is true," Rodney agreed, moving in to curl around him. Then he froze. "Oh fuck, I'm going to be a father."

"Relax." John petted Rodney with his forelimbs soothingly. "You'll always have me around to help. And I'll even help you find more errors with your proofs like that one from yesterday. You know, empty stick-head that I am."

"I knew there was some reason I put up with you," Rodney said fondly.

"Yeah," John returned, nestling deeply between Rodney's limbs.


End file.
